I leave soon for St. Louis, where I’ll spend about a week in the company of some of my best friends, who also happen to be authors, at Penned Con. An author/reader signing/conference/charity event.
This list has a whole lot of awesome on it. Our event takes up the entire 13th floor of the hotel. I have a blast each and every year (though this will be my last for a while due to a scheduling conflict next year.) I’ll be fly down early to help them set up and stay a little longer to help them clean up. That is not the most painful of things to which I refer…
In addition to being a signing author, this year I’ll also be hosting a game show, acting in a murder mystery, leading a panel, and participating in a lip sync battle. Yes, pictures will be had. And no, still not the most painful of the things.
There are a lot of unpleasant tasks that I have to do to make it to Penned Con, like waking up at 1 am to catch a flight, enduring long layovers, and having to wear not one, but TWO dresses. GASP! These things are all horrid, to be sure.
The biggest annoyance of all these things? The shoes I picked will be a high heeled sandal. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? I have to paint my toenails!!!!!!!!!!!!
So? I have to paint my toenails. Big whoop. Little back history: I hate being barefoot. Like, hate, hate, hate it. I MIGHT STEP ON A BUG! This means having to wear a dress, heels, AND have my toes exposed (toes are just weird, y’all) is painful for me. Now, my toes are usually polished because, as I said, toes are weird looking. Polish makes them a little less freaky, BUT, toenail polish lasts forever so you really only need to do it once in your life and you’re good to go. However, the dark plum I had on would NOT match the bright red dress I have to wear so I had to redo the toes.
People, I’m not that bendy anymore. The level of dexterity required when painting your toenails in your forties is no laughing matter. It should be an Olympic sport (for which I would never qualify.) Now you might think, I should just go to get a pedicure. Problem solved. No need to bend. Um no. NO. ONE. TOUCHES. MY. FEET.
Seriously. I will throat punch you. With my foot. Purely reflex, of course. I am extremely ticklish on my feet and hate having them touched so, yeah, that means, only I can paint them. Fine. FINE! I will paint my toenails.
Thirty minutes and a half a bottle of nail polish remover later…the toes are done. For the next year and a half.
Danielle Bannister, Author 